


Take It Easy

by PrettyMessedUpSituation (MarcelinesNightosphere)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alley Blow Jobs, Alley Sex, Alternate Universe, Bedroom Sex, Bisexuality, Blow Jobs in Shower, Confrontations, Existential Crisis, Happy Ending, M/M, Marijuana, Masturbation, Recreational Drug Use, Semi-Public Sex, Showers, Soul-Searching, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-22 14:48:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10699230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcelinesNightosphere/pseuds/PrettyMessedUpSituation
Summary: Dean Smith's having some kind of life crisis.A misunderstanding between himself and an internet search leads him to a dispensary on 4/20 rather than a natural food store, where he meets a hot budtender who sets a whole new chapter of Dean's life into motion.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [braezenkitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/braezenkitty/gifts).



> 4/20 prompt received from braezenkitty on tumblr: Dean/Cas + shotgunning
> 
> This was supposed to be a drabble...but here we are, and I'm afraid I might want to add chapters later.  
> Big thanks to my trash sisters for helping me with some direction as I was forming the ins and outs of this. You guys are always awesome and a great sounding board for fic.
> 
> Want to reblog it on tumblr to tell your friends you loved it (please)? You can find the post with the link [ here ](http://prettymessedupsituation.tumblr.com/post/159870216968/im-finally-home-and-partaking-legally-as-well).
> 
> Another note: I was high for two days writing this, and aside from removing "slack trap" as the term for getting legs stuck in trousers, I've left all of it as is. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

 

When he took off his headset it felt like slipping into one of those extra plush robes at a spa. He felt free. Dean pushed a button on his intercom and his new executive assistant answered. 

“Yes, Mr. Smith?” 

“Just as a reminder, I’m taking a personal day tomorrow. I’ll see you Monday. And I won’t be answering my phone this weekend.”

“Of course, Mr. Smith. Have an excellent weekend.”

“You too….” He couldn’t remember her name, and it made him feel awful. He’d been so distracted this week. 

“...Casey.”

“Casey.” He closed his eyes to momentarily shut out the embarrassment. “Have a great weekend, Casey.” 

“Will do, sir.”

 

Staring into his near-empty refrigerator, he realized he had forgotten to schedule a grocery delivery. There wasn’t a thing he could scrape a meal out of. He closed the refrigerator door and turned with his back to the counter, his arms crossed over his chest protectively. He stared out at his apartment. It surprised him when instead of recognizing the space as his home,  _ sterile _ was the only word coming to mind. An early mid-life crisis or not, whatever was going on this week wore on him. 

 

Dean pulled his phone out and let out a heavy sigh as he went to Maps to find a grocery nearby. There was a new store that popped up on the list that was only a few miles away - LivWell. He made a quick list and shook his head at the loudness of empty space as he closed the door to the apartment behind him. 

The drive took only a few minutes, but when he arrived the parking lot was full. An advertisement talking about a sale was on the window, which he saw as he circled the block to find a parking spot. When he finally found a place to park, it took him five minutes to walk back to the store.  _ This place better be good _ , he thought.  _ And this sale better be awesome _ . 

Once inside the door someone behind glass like at a movie theater greeted him and gestured for him to come over. 

“License or other form of identification, sir?” the man behind the glass said through a vent in the window. 

“U-um, uh…” Dean stuttered. “For a - a grocery store?” 

The guy looked at him strangely. “Nah, dude. We’re a dispensary.”

“But LivWell - I thought it was a natural foods store,” Dean said, not sure why he was arguing the point. 

“No kale here, man. But we’ve got a great selection of greens. You’re already here - you might as well try it out. We’re having a 420 sale - 20% off of flower and edibles, four pre-rolls for $20, and a lot more.” 

Dean took a moment and thought about it. He opened his wallet and pulled out his driver’s license, slid it under the glass, and waited. 

“Thank you, Mr. Smith,” he responded. He slid the ID card back under the glass with a number and buzzed the door. “Through that door. ATM is located inside as we’re a cash-only establishment. Bathroom if you need it. Someone’ll be out and call your number for you to go in.”

Dean just nodded and headed through the door, no clue what to expect. He was surprised to see security guards in the big, open waiting area packed with people. The people sitting in chairs around him were diverse in age and class, talking to each other. Some were laughing, some looked nervous, and some just sat quietly and kept to themselves. Somehow no one looked out of place, which made him in his suit and tie feel less awkward. He beelined for the ATM and pulled out money.  _ How much does...any of this cost? _ he thought to himself. He’d never bought marijuana. He pulled out $200 cash and took an empty seat. The news was on the television and was covering a 420 event downtown.  _ What am I doing?  _ he thought.

It was a good half hour of waiting before his number was finally called. A twenty-something with gauged ears and a flat-billed hat led him to an empty register. A U-shaped counter ran along the inside of the room, which was clean and had some relaxing lighting. The glass cases in the counters displayed all kinds of things that he was clueless about, and the center of the room was stocked with tee shirts and other merchandise. His eye caught a plaid button up when someone cleared their throat. 

“Hi. Can I see your ID?”

“The guy at the glass -”

“I know. I still have to check it.” The cute redhead waited while Dean brought his wallet back out. “We have to follow strict guidelines to what seems to be extremes. Because,” she continued while checking Dean’s driver’s license, “while it’s legal in the state, it’s still federally illegal.” 

“Hence the security and all the checkpoints,” Dean said.

“And the cash.”

“And the cash,” Dean repeated with an awkward smile. The guy that kept walking behind her was slightly disheveled in that way too many people try to be and spend too much time and money to in the process, but he seemed to have the devil may care look naturally. Frustratingly so. 

“Anna!” one of the other budtenders called from down the line. “Can I get your help?” 

“Sorry,” she said to Dean. She tapped the badge hanging from a lanyard. “Assistant manager. I’ll be right back -”

The man that had been walking back and forth stopped her. “I’ll get him. You go put out fires.”

“Okay. Dean, Cas here is gonna take care of you,” Anna said. She dipped a little as if she were making a quick curtsey and spun away to help a small dark-haired girl who looked slightly panicked. 

“Well, Dean, what can we get for you?” 

Dean’s attention was brought back to the person behind the counter in front of him, who now seemed much taller and formidable than a minute before. The guy scratched his short beard and stared at Dean, wide-eyed, waiting for a response.

“Oh. Uh. Well….” Dean leaned forward and spoke in a low-toned whisper that wouldn’t carry. “I’ve never...done this. I have no idea what I’m doing.” 

Cas nodded and smiled. “Shocking.”

“What?” Dean asked, suddenly feeling intense anxiety over even being there.  _ What the hell am I doing? _

“I’m just giving you shit,” Cas said. “You’ll be fine. Do you know if you want to eat it, smoke it, rub it in…?”

Dean stared blankly at him. 

“Okay. We can start from the very beginning.”

“It’s a very good place to start,” Dean said without skipping a beat. Instantly, the walls felt as if they were closing in - he felt his face flush and he wanted to walk out, right there. 

Cas stared at Dean with a flat, emotionless affect, watching him sweat. “Dean. Did you just quote _ The Sound of Music _ ?” 

“Can...we pretend that never happened?” Dean asked.

“No. So this is our flower -” 

Cas went on, explaining the different strains and how they affected the high. He showed him shatter and wax, and he let him sniff one that smelled exactly like blue raspberry Jolly Ranchers. He discussed edibles, dosage, and the do’s and don’ts. He laid out transdermal patches, topicals, and oil and explained how each worked with the body.  _ I really think you’d enjoy this _ , he mentioned with the oil. Dean blushed. 

“I just don’t know,” he said after Cas had given him a courtesy crash course in marijuana. “I’m sorry. This place is packed - you’re busy and I don’t like wasting people’s time. I just don’t know what I’m doing here.”

Cas smiled. “None of us know what we’re doing here, Dean,” he said in an attempt to draw the conversation toward existential dread rather than lose a customer to doubts - a move Dean was moderately familiar with. “And it’s good that it’s busy. You’re not wasting anyone’s time. I’m here for a half hour.”

Dean looked at his watch. “You get off at eight?”

“We close at five to eight. Whether or not I get off, well….” Cas smiled at his blatant flirtation, but Dean laughed uncomfortably, which shifted Cas’s demeanor considerably for a few beats. “Oh. I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t cross a line, did I? Sometimes I get ahead of myself.” 

His brow furrowed. “Ahead of yourself?”

“Yeah. You’re definitely going to be meeting me at the Smoking Gun tonight at nine, but right now, the focus is on you as a customer. Let’s get you started small.”

Straightening his tie, Dean shifted as he watched Cas gather four pre-rolls of Northern Lights, an eighth each of some flower labeled  _ Blurple _ and  _ Tangerine Dream _ , and a chocolate bar. Cas gestured for him to follow, and he led Dean to a case full of glass figures. 

“Pick a hand pipe.”

“These are pipes?” Dean asked. “They all look like...they’re very phallic.”

“All the sweeter to put to your lips,” Cas said without looking up. “Here’s one that fits you.”

Dean was skeptical. There was a lot of superfluous color and shine and attention-drawing details in that case. Cas placed a pipe in front of him that, instead, looked sleek. 

“Sandblasted, so it has a matte look. Gunmetal gray. Very you.”

Dean picked it up in his hand. It felt good. He actually liked it. 

“You like it, don’t you? I knew it.” Cas walked back to the register, leaving Dean chasing back after him when he realized he was being left behind. “In my professional opinion, this is a good start. You’ve got sativa if you want to be up, indica if you want a body high, hybrid of both, and three ways to partake. And,” he said as he rang Dean up, “you’ll have my number, so if you have any questions, I can give you direction.” He looked up at Dean with such wickedness in his eyes that Dean’s stomach dropped. “Your total with tax is $140.”

As Dean fumbled with his wallet, Cas wrote his number and something else on the back of a store card and threw it in the bag, watching Dean watch him as he did so.

“See you soon, Dean,” he said, stapling the bag shut. He slid it across the counter to Dean and grinned. Dean started to put a few dollar bills into the tip jar, but Cas grabbed his hand to stop him. “That’s not my jar. And save it - you can just buy me a drink later.” He winked and Dean pulled his hand back. 

He smiled and walked through the doors out into the waiting area, then out to the lobby, and finally outside. There were a lot of layers to that place. Dean made it to his car and slid into the driver’s seat. Before he put the key in the ignition, he popped the staple and pulled out the card. Under his number he’d written _ 9 o’clock. Smoking Gun. 16th St.  _

Dean sat there, incredulous. “What the fuck is happening today?” he asked himself aloud. “What the fuck was that?” Everything that just happened were things that never happened. He was openly and boldly flirted with by a guy. He bought drugs. He now owns a pipe specifically for smoking weed. He was invited - no, he was told - to meet this guy at what sounded like a bar that was drug-friendly. This was not him. 

He started the car and looked at his watch. Dean determined there was time for him to go home and rub one out before he met Cas downtown. 

  
  


Dean walked down 16th Street to find the Smoking Gun, and it wasn’t too difficult to figure out where it was when he was within a block. He made his way to the door and got out is ID for the bouncer. After a quick check, he was pushing through, finding his way to the bar. He hadn’t yet reached it when a hand cut through the crowd and grabbed his shoulder. Before he could turn around, the hand slid down his tricep and wrapped around his forearm. He was pulled back and once he was moving in the right direction, the hand took his and led him away from the bartenders, toward the back of the bar. 

“I cannot believe you’re wearing that,” Cas said. He dropped Dean off on one end of a small couch and he sat at the other. “Is this your relaxing outfit? Because you still look like you stepped off of Wall Street.” 

Dean looked down at his suit. “What’s wrong with it? I look good.”

“Yes,” Cas said in agreement, “you do. But you still look so stiff. You can’t be comfortable wearing a suit and tie all the time. I used to, and it sucked.”

“ _ You  _ used to wear a suit and tie?” Dean asked. “And now you’re a…a budtender at a dispensary?” 

Cas laughed. “No, sweetheart. I’m the owner.” 

Dean looked at him in disbelief. “No,” he said shaking his head. “No way. And _sweetheart_?” He scoffed. 

A messenger bag landed in between them on the couch. Cas opened it and pulled out the lanyard he was wearing at the dispensary. He held it up and pointed to the words below his name. Proprietor and Manager. 

“Well. Fuck,” Dean said. “I’m an ass.” 

Cas smiled in response. He reached back into the bag and brought out a brown paper sack. “Lose the jacket,” he said. Cas opened up a candy bar, broke off two pieces, and handed one to Dean, but lowered his hand when he saw him still wearing his jacket. “Seriously,” he said. “Take that off. Relax.”

Dean rolled his eyes and pulled off his jacket. He folded it in half and laid it gently over the back of the couch. Cas rolled  _ his _ eyes this time and offered him the chocolate again. Dean took it and popped it in his mouth. 

“What was that?” he asked after he swallowed.

Cas laughed. “You just take something out of the hands of a dispensary owner and eat it without asking what it is?” 

Dean sighed and hung his head. “How long do I have?”

“Two hours, give or take. Have you eaten anything fatty?”

“No?”

Cas waved over a roving waitress. “Two burgers, two beers.” She nodded and headed back toward the kitchen. “That should help things. In the meantime….”

Dean watched as Cas lit a joint and took a few puffs.  _ What am I  _ doing  _ today? Did I have a stroke? Is this just some fucked up coma-dream? _ he wondered to himself. He took the joint from Cas and tried to remember how to smoke from that one time he got high in college.  _ Hold it in _ , he told himself. After a few seconds, he erupted in coughs. 

“Sorry,” he said and coughed again in his elbow. 

“We’ll get you there.” Cas took another pass and sat back to look at Dean. 

“How did this happen?” Dean asked, reaching across for another try. 

“What do you mean?”

Dean inhaled, and this time, successfully. “Maybe I’m just talking to myself.” 

“You never just...meet someone and hang out?” He took the joint back. 

“No. Not really.” He felt awful about his life hearing that out loud. 

“I don’t want to say anything about ‘all work and no play’, but….” 

“I get it,” Dean said, taking his pass. He went to give it back and Cas held up his hand in refusal. Dean shrugged and took another drag. “But I’m not gonna start my night with self reflection.” Cas leaned back against the arm of the couch and nodded respectfully. 

 

They ate and talked. Dean told Cas about his boring job that he was oddly good at and content with, and pondered the meaning of his sterile apartment. Cas told Dean about how he went from accountant to proprietor of a marijuana dispensary, which, Dean thought, was far more interesting. His head was floating, and every bite of his burger was a bite into the best burger he’d ever tasted. They ordered two more beers. Slowly, everything drifted away. The smoke and the noise of the room faded. Dean was annoyed by how hot Cas was. His eyes were piercing, and his hair, his entire look, was….

“Hot,” he said, accidentally out loud.

“What?” Cas asked. 

“Oh shit. Nothing,” Dean said. “Nothing.” 

“Did you say  _ hot _ ? Was that internal monologue escaping your body?” Cas leaned forward, balancing his elbow on his thigh with his chin in his hand. “Do you think I’m  _ hot,  _ Dean?” 

Dean’s face flushed and everything got tingly. He tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling, horribly embarrassed. Before he could say anything, a gorgeous girl came up to Dean from behind and leaned over the couch. She said  _ Hey _ , took a drag off of her joint, and put her mouth on his. The smoke filled his mouth when he inhaled, and then she winked and walked away. 

“What the fuck was that?” he asked. 

Cas just sat dumbfounded. “That happen to you a lot?”

“Oh yeah, all the time,” Dean said. He looked around but didn’t see where she went. 

“If she comes back, I’m going to give her a late night bar lesson on consent,” Cas mumbled. Dean asked what he said, but Cas pulled out another joint and lit it. “Are you interested in me?”

Dean laughed. “I met you a few hours ago. I bought over a hundred dollars of pot, went home, jacked off, and met you here. So nah. Not interested at all.”

“I’ll come back to the ‘jacked off’ part later,” Cas said, seemingly making a mental reminder. “So if I did what she did, you would be okay with it?” 

His face got tingly again. He nodded and watched as Cas came across the couch toward him. He swallowed down the lump in his throat. A knee balanced on the inner side of the couch and Cas was hovering over him, one foot on the ground. He grasped the knot on Dean’s tie, loosened it, and took a deep drag. The cherry burned bright red and faded as Cas’s face moved toward Dean’s. He opened his mouth and Cas’s lips barely grazed his as he exhaled into Dean’s mouth. Dean inhaled, sucking it into his lungs. 

It seemed like it took a crazy long amount of time for all of it to happen; then, he exhaled. A wisp of smoke drifted through his parted lips, rising up into the dusky light of the bar. As he took in a breath of air, lips pressed to his, and he fell.

At least it felt like falling. He’d never been kissed like this before; then again, he’d never been this high before. The two combined made for an amazing feeling. When the kissing abruptly stopped, he chased after absent lips. Cas’s beard rubbed against the side of Dean’s shaven face. 

_ “Let’s get out of here,” _ Cas whispered. 

Dean felt his breath against his ear, which sent a shiver through his body.

Cas's hand pulled Dean up and through the dwindling crowd, leading him outside into the crisp Colorado air. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Dean walked alongside him a few businesses down and stopped. There was a narrow alley that was in enough shadow to be out of sight. Cas was looking at the stars and was surprised when Dean pulled him into the alley. 

Dean breathed him in, his mouth moving hungrily against Cas’s. He rocked against him, his cock hard. Cas pushed Dean back against the wall, breathing heavily.

Cas smiled and started tugging at Dean’s belt. It slid slowly through the loop and became unbuckled. With a clink, it hang loosely around his hips. Cas undid the button of Dean’s pants. Dean felt his cock twitch. He felt exposed. The street was just two feet to the left, and the sound of people leaving the bar and hailing pedicabs to take them back to their apartments or to their cars echoed in the night. 

“You live around here?” Dean asked. 

Cas just laughed. “You’re such a - ”

“A what?” Dean asked. 

His eyes shone with mischievousness, taunting Dean, daring him. Dean put his hands on Cas’s shoulders and licked his lips to wet them. He pushed Cas down to his knees; Dean unzipped his slacks, and pulled himself out. Cas rubbed his thumb over the head of Dean’s cock, moving the slick around in circles. Dean felt Cas’s breath on him, then his lips pushing over him, taking him into his mouth. Cas slowly pushed his mouth over and back, taking a little bit more of Dean in each time, drawing out each movement with a teasing intensity. Dean looked up at the blue-black sky and let out a quiet laugh that faded to a smile. Cas’s mouth wrapped around him and created a perfect suction, tightening and releasing with each bobbing movement. He felt himself grasping for Cas’s shoulder but landed in his hair. Dean ran his hand through Cas’s hair softly, almost petting him, before he curled his fingers and pulled. He couldn’t help but make small thrusting movements into Cas’s mouth as he moved faster, taking all of him that he could. When it seemed like he was getting too worked up, Cas slowly withdrew Dean’s cock from his mouth, sucking as he pulled. He stood and leaned back against the brick wall behind him and started taking off his belt. 

“Fuck, Cas. You’ve got a mouth,” Dean said breathlessly. 

Cas leaned over and started rifling through his bag. He pulled out a small bottle and a condom. 

“Look at you,” Dean said. His stomach fluttered.  _ This is not how I thought tonight was gonna go down _ , he thought. 

“You might be the boy scout, but I’m always prepared.” He moved in to kiss Dean and bit his lip gently. “You want to fuck me here or do you wanna go back to my place?” That devious look was back on his face. 

Dean snatched the condom from him and put it on, then took the bottle of lube from Cas. He put a few squeezes onto his fingers and put some on himself before handing it back to Cas. Dean looked back up at the sky and took in a deep breath. He hooked his arm around Cas’s head and pulled him close. 

“You tell me if it hurts, okay? Tell me if you need to stop.” For some reason, he felt himself kiss Cas’s forehead before he turned him around. It felt strangely intimate, despite what just happened and what was about to happen. 

Dean leaned back against the brick to give Cas more room in the limited space they had. Cas backed up against Dean, his hands bracing against the wall in front of him while the rest of his body relaxed, letting Dean have control. Dean’s hand brushed over Cas’s ass and his cock twitched again. He hadn’t done this in a long while. His breaths were shallow as he spread Cas’s cheek with one hand and and started placing himself. He started to press in and paused. A wave of relaxation blew through him. The edible was kicking in. Cas pushed back as Dean lifted him at his hips, slowly sliding onto his cock. Dean exhaled in one long, slow breath as he went deeper; his face grew warm. When Cas stopped moving,  Dean curled his arm under Cas’s and stepped forward, hugging Cas back toward his chest. He leaned forward to close the distance and whispered into Cas’s ear. 

“I’m such a what?” 

“A fucking tight-ass, wound too tight, square,” Cas replied. “But I’ll find out about the truth about that ass later.” 

Dean rocked up into him and breathed onto his neck, “I think this is your immediate concern.” 

Cas groaned sharply at the pressure and then hissed as Dean relaxed his hips. He thrust into Cas with a little more momentum and put his forehead in the center of Cas’s back. His head was swimming and he was getting lightheaded. His nerves lit up and his skin prickled, moving between hot and cold. He fucked into Cas and buried his face into his back, his hand roughly handling him at the hip. His other hand reached around and stroked Cas’s cock, mirroring them with his own thrusts. Grunts and heavy breathing filled the air around them. His hand rested over Cas’s, steadying both of them against the wall as they fucked. Dean bit Cas’s hoodie as he came, his legs wobbling before he finished. He slowly backed out of Cas and took off the condom. Suddenly he was incredibly tired. 

“D’ya live close?” Dean asked breathlessly. 

“Yeah,” Cas said as he pulled up his pants. “We’ll take a cab.”

 

The next thing Dean remembers is leaning against a cab door and feeling the coolness of the window. Then he was being lead up the stairs, his hand securely locked in Cas’s. He downed a glass of water in a kitchen. He fell back onto a bed that was the most comfortable bed he ever laid on. 

“You okay?” Cas asked. 

“Everything’s wavy,” Dean said. 

Cas laughed. “Wavy good or wavy sick?”

“Wavy good.” Dean swallowed and smiled. “Today was not even in my realm of possibility,” he said, holding his arm above his head, palm-up out toward the ceiling. 

“We all need days like that,” Cas said. “Those are the best days.” Cas lit a joint.  

“Fucking hell, Cas. Aren’t you high enough?” Dean’s head fell to the side to look at him. 

All he could see in the dark was a cherry burning. Cas moved, straddling Dean and taking in slow drags. On the last, he didn’t inhale; instead he leaned down, and Dean opened his mouth. Cas blew the smoke into Dean’s mouth, and with his inward breath, it curled into his lungs. His body prickled from head to toe, but he felt like he was sinking into the bed. A few minutes later, his head was floating. Cas stroked Dean’s skin. He’d pulled up his shirt, but hadn’t unbuttoned it. His tie hung loose around his neck. 

“You look like a drunk frat boy.”

“Shut up.” 

“Or a missionary who made some mistakes.”

“For fuck sake.”

Cas leaned down and whispered in Dean’s ear. “Definitely a wound too-tight, tight-ass square.” 

Dean felt like there were tiny fireworks going off under his skin. Cas pulled down his pants and Dean’s. Or made an attempt. Dean was deadweight at this point and hardly any help, but he finally kicked his legs out of the trap of material, shaking the bed with his silent laughter. But he stopped laughing when Cas’s face was suddenly close to his. 

“You’ve done this before?” 

Dean thought for a minute, trying to formulate an answer. “What’s about to happen? Yes. Once.” 

“If I need to stop or go slower or you need more lubrication, let me know.” 

Dean nodded in the dark. Cas’s lips hovered over his while Dean's fingers made quick work of unbuttoning his own shirt. Cas dipped his head and let his breath roll across Dean’s bare chest as he positioned himself, using one hand to help spread a cheek. Slowly, as gently as he could, Cas pressed into him. His breath hitched,

“Breathe,” Cas reminded him, petting his hair. “Don’t forget to breathe.” 

He had a hand on Cas’s face. Cas’s beard was his guide in the dark, letting Dean find and hold his jaw in his hand. He crossed his lower lip with his thumb, and as Cas pushed into him, he slid his thumb into Cas’s mouth. Cas playfully bit it, then formed his mouth around it, sucking when Dean pulled it out. 

“ _ Oh, fuck _ ,” Dean moaned. His cock jumped, throbbing as it grew harder. 

Cas curled his hips forward and got a grip on one of Dean’s legs. He leaned forward and kissed him, calming him. Cas’s mouth moved to Dean’s chest, skimming his skin along the way. He sucked and kissed a nipple before straightening himself up. Cas’s arms wrapped under Dean’s legs and lifted him up, drawing him closer. 

“I got this,” he said, squeezing Dean’s thighs in his arms. “You relax.” 

The pressure mounted inside of him. He reached down and took hold of his cock. Matching Cas’s thrusts, they moved in tandem. The strokes became faster, harder, deeper, Underneath Dean’s skin, his body was swimming. Inside of his ears throbbed. Wave after wave sank him deeper into the bed. When he came, the tingling sensations moved across his entire body. Pressure released when Cas pulled out of him and pushed Dean’s leg to the side, setting him down gently. Dean’s right leg and hip fell over his left side like he’d been a castaway washed up on shore, but he was so comfortable in this awkward position that he didn’t want to move. 

They laid there for a while. The air from the ceiling fan above Cas’s bed spun a soft breeze over their exposed skin, and Dean was already drifting off to sleep when Cas tapped him on his ass. 

“Shower?” 

Dean mumbled in agreement but didn’t move. He felt the mattress shift, then heard footsteps and a light click on. The sound of the shower was just another lullaby, but the thought of standing there with the water running over him, with Cas, enticed him. He dragged himself up off of the bed and walked toward the light from the bathroom. 

Dean stood with his chest and face in the water and felt more relaxed than he’d been in as long as he could remember. Cas moved soapy circles across Dean’s backside from shoulders to thighs. He told him to turn and started the process again on the front. Shoulders, chest, stomach, thighs. 

“I’ll let you do the more sensitive areas.”

Dean laughed. “Thanks.” He stared at Cas, wet and tired. His eyes held so much. Hurt and kindness, a devilishness that made him a force to be reckoned with. Dean leaned in and kissed him, hesitantly and gently. It wasn’t a kiss of passion but of genuine affection for this man he’d just met hours ago. He would have to unpack all that later, he thought, because not thinking and just doing right now felt pretty damn good. 

  
  


Dean woke up to the sound of city life. He panicked for a moment, but then remembered he’d taken a personal day. The smell of bacon and eggs drifted into the room which roused him from the comfort of the sheet and comforter on Cas’s exceptionally comfortable mattress. He looked around and found his pants and his shirt. Dean buttoned himself up and rolled up the sleeves, but left the tie and his belt on the floor. Quietly, with a touch of embarrassment, he made his way to the kitchen, following the sound of the Eagles. 

“Smells good,” he said. 

Cas looked well rested and happy. “Figured you’d be hungry.”

“Awfully thoughtful of you.” Dean looked around the well-kept apartment. A circle of a shag carpet gave a little color to the hardwood floors in the living room. Vinyl records and art covered the walls. Books were stacked on end tables and shelved. He thought of his apartment and realized what it was lacking - personal touches. A personality. 

They ate in the kitchen and discussed the body and head highs of the previous night. Cas made suggestions for how they could spend that evening - if Dean was interested. He happily accepted the invitation. Dean cleaned off his plate in the sink, and when Cas was doing the same, he tried to say something but it got stuck in his throat. Cas gave him a quick, knowing glance and turned off the water. He took Dean by the collar and pulled him in for a kiss, soft and intense, full of all kinds of much-too-soon words that neither could bring himself to say. 

 

Cas threw on a hoodie and walked with Dean to find his car. They finally reached it, and when Dean hit unlock and the car’s lights flashed, Cas doubled over in laughter. 

“What?” Dean asked. “What the hell is so funny?”

“Y-you -” Cas started to say, but was interrupted by his own laughter. “You drive a _Prius_?” he bursted out.

“Well don’t piss yourself over it,” Dean said, blushing. He looked around to see how many people were staring at them now. “Listen, it’s a dependable car. Fuel efficient.” 

Cas tried to compose himself. He looked up at Dean with a huge smile and said, “You’re gonna be fun. I can tell.” He started walking back toward home. 

“I can drop you off,” Dean said. 

Without turning around to look at him, Cas called back, “Not in that you won’t.” 

Dean watched as he walked away and felt like his old life had just got scrapped. It felt like he was waking up from a weird dream; he didn’t want that life anymore. He didn’t know what he wanted for his future, but he knew who he wanted in it. Dean got in his Prius, put the keys in the ignition, and after some searches on this phone, he drove to a car dealership that specialized in classic cars. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean done fucked up. As he remembers the weekend he spent with Cas, he realizes he needs to make things right.

“I...am awful at this.”

Dean stared out at his still sterile apartment. There was a piece of art he’d purchased from a gallery event he attended with a group of clients hanging above his electric fireplace. The splash of blues certainly brought a little bit of life to the otherwise grayscale room. _Baby steps_ , he reminded himself after a good fifteen minutes of beating himself up over how bland he was in regards to decor. _At least it’s something._

From his vantage point on the chaise lounge, he could put different things up onto the walls and take them down in his mind, defeated that he’d never find some color scheme or just something to decorate that damn room that was _him_. In his hand, the pipe had gone cold. He picked up his lighter and lit it again, taking deep draws.

He’d worried the past few days that this is what he’d become - a middle-aged man who sat in his apartment getting high and staring at the walls, waiting for inspiration or an end to this life crisis that kept growing heavier on him, crowding his mind. But he’d allowed it, for this weekend at least. He was not thrilled about having to go to work the next day; nor was he happy that the Blurple was almost gone and he was finishing the last of the Tangerine Dream. He cringed at the thought of going back into that dispensary after not calling Cas, or even sending a text. His leg bounced up and down as he thought about it, his stomach in knots. Thoughts ran through his head of how he should have called, should have texted, should have at least sent him a picture of his new car….

He smiled at the last idea. It would be cute and impactful enough to maybe buff out any disgruntled sentiments Cas had toward him for ghosting. Dean took out his phone and flipped through the photos he’d taken of the car. As he swiped back and forth, a mess of emotions cemented themselves in his stomach and made him nauseous. He picked a picture, and without allowing himself the time to overthink it, he typed his message and hit the send button.

Then he stared at it. Delivered. A picture of his new car with the caption _Would you let me drive you home in this?_ stared back at him. Dean put down his phone and finished smoking what was left in his pipe. He tipped his head back and was nearly asleep when his phone buzzed.

 

> _TWO WEEKS????????????_

“Oh, shit,” he said, his head falling back and eyes glued to the ceiling. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ I’m a goddamn asshole!” His phone buzzed again.

 

> _TWO. WEEKS._

 

Dean’s feet hit his floor at six in the morning, and they stayed planted in place until ten after. He couldn’t make himself stand up and head to the bathroom for his morning routine. His body begged for him to just lie back down, to drift somewhere away from here.

The shower didn’t invigorate him, and the walk into work didn’t get his blood pumping as much as he’d hoped. It did, however, afford him the opportunity to pick up a coffee and a pastry from a street cart.

“Good morning, Mr. Smith,” Casey said as he made his way to his office. “You have a meeting this morning at nine with Mr. Adler, ten-thirty department meeting is still on, your lunch will be here at noon, Ms. Harris will be stopping in this afternoon to set up the details for the dinner with new clients on Thursday, and you have a teleconference at five o’clock with Mr. Hatanaka in Japan.”

“Thank you, Casey,” Dean said with a heavy sigh and a glance at his watch. “Can you get me another one of these?” he asked, holding up his coffee. “And might as well another one of these,” he added, waving the last bite of his pastry and walking into his office.

“Coffee and...is that a danish?”

“I guess. Just something sweet.” Before he closed the door behind him, he heard her whisper incredulously to herself.

“A _danish_ . Seriously? _”_

He went to his desk and hit the call button.

Casey answered. “Yes, Mr. Smith?”

“Seriously.”

He could almost feel her blush through the phone. “Right away, sir.”

 

The entire day he moved separate from his body, watching everything as if it were a movie being played out in front of him instead of his real life. Mr. Adler congratulated him on the big sale he’d won the night of the gallery event and briefed him on who the next potential client was. His lunch, which consisted of a wrap and a power greens smoothie, were on his desk when he walked in from his mid-morning meeting. Ms. Harris, an absolute bombshell that was far too interesting to be interested in him, hammered out the dinner details with precision and a stunning smile that left Dean feeling like a kid in high school. After a string of phone calls, he took a second to catch his breath and checked his phone.

His thumb hovered over his messages and he finally, just before the screen turned off, tapped it.

The words _TWO. WEEKS_ . glared at him, judging him. Dean spun from side to side in his chair absentmindedly. He went back into his messages and typed, _Happy Monday_ , and instantly felt like an idiot. He raked his little zen garden for the rest of the day until Casey came in to tell him she was leaving. He still had his teleconference with the buyers in Japan.

The call came through clear and his potential clients were enthusiastic, but he was on autopilot the entire call. Luckily, his autopilot was one of the best salespeople in the company. While listening to Mr. Hatanaka’s counter offer, he jerked when his phone buzzed. He jumped again a few seconds later, when a second text came in. Suddenly, he was extremely present and impatient to get off of this call. Another buzz. He gritted his teeth and flexed his jaw.

“Mr. Smith, are you feeling alright?” Mr. Hatanaka asked.

“Absolutely. The window washers are outside my window and it just...startled me. They move, and I get a little scare,” he said with a false chuckle. “To the point, sir, I think that we both know what our company has brought to the table is beneficial for everyone involved. If you’d like to take a few more days to think it over and get back with me, that’s fine. But if you’re ready to seal this deal now, get out your pen and have your secretary send me those documents and we,” he said with a gesture between himself and Mr. Hatanaka, “will be in business.”

The call ended with a promise to have the signed documents to him within the half hour.

Dean looked at his phone.

 

> _Why happy Monday to you too, Dean._
> 
> _I had a great time with you this past weekend._
> 
> _Oh wait. That was TWO WEEKS AGO._

“God damn it,” Dean mumbled.

 

* * *

 

The Friday they’d parted ways, Cas walked back to his apartment and Dean drove to a classic car dealership just outside the city proper. He looked around and talked with a guy, but hadn’t nailed anything down. Dean drove home and walked into his apartment, but as soon as he set his keys down on the kitchen counter, nothing in his life felt right.

 

The bathroom was nothing but steam and the music from a random Pandora station he’d just set up an account for. He had never heard any of the songs playing, but he kind of liked them. Dean’s second shower of the day was less for getting clean and more for some self reflection and life contemplation. He stretched in the shower, letting the heat relax his muscles and allow them to loosen up. As his mind wandered, all he could think about centered around his new friend. _I should call him,_ he thought while washing his hair. _I wonder what he’s up to tonight,_ he thought while soaping up his body. _How soon is too soon to text him?_ he asked himself as he rinsed the scrub off of his face. _Could I get out of the shower, towel off, and send a text asking ‘Cool if I come over?’ and not sound stupid?_

Standing naked in his bathroom, Dean sent a text.

Before he had the time to pull on some pants, his phone buzzed.

 

> _Is it weird I kinda wish you never left?_

Dean smiled. He hated the fluttering feeling in his stomach. He looked down at it with scowl as if it had betrayed him. Before he thought of anything to say in response, his phone went off again.

 

> _Please excuse the last text. Entirely too sentimental._
> 
> _How about this:_
> 
> _See you at 7 when I get off work._
> 
> _..._
> 
> _Yes. That’s better._

  


“Did you _walk_ here?” Cas asked as he approached his apartment building with a very conflicted looking Dean pacing at the entryway. An amused grin played on his face as he considered him like a puppy behind a pet store window. “Nice shirt.”

Dean shrugged and pulled back the casual blazer jacket hiding the bulk of the graphic. His sister had given the t-shirt to him for his birthday a few years ago, a reprint of the one from the AC/DC 1979 Highway to Hell tour. “Thought I would give it a try. Hadn’t worn it before.”

“I’m shocked,” Cas replied with a straight face. “You want to come up or do you want to go straight out?”

“Whatever you want to do is fine.” Inside his head, Dean was screaming at himself to stop being an idiot.

“How about I run some things upstairs, freshen up, and we go get dinner and some drinks?”

Dean nodded. “Sure. That sounds great.”

He followed Cas into the building and was stricken silent in the elevator. His stomach tightened up. All he could think about was walking through that door and being surprised by those rough hands pushing him against the wall, warm breath and deep-toned words rolling across his throat, and the pressure of that solid body up against his. When the elevator doors opened, Dean didn’t move. Cas stopped a few steps out and turned.

“You coming?”

“Yeah,” Dean said with a shake of his head. He hid an immature remark behind a sideways smile.

 

Cas was walking around his bedroom, trying to talk loud enough for Dean to hear from his place perched on the edge of the couch.

“Do you like food that’s the slightly Americanized versions of authentic Central American foods from various countries all in one place?” he said as loud as his voice would carry.   

“Who doesn’t?” Dean said, a little too quiet.

“What?” Cas asked. He popped out of the door, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs.

Dean swallowed. “Uh, who doesn’t?” he repeated.

Cas dropped his head. “So, you know we’ve...already…. You can come into the room.” He looked up at Dean and smiled. “Edge of the bed’s comfier than the edge of that couch.”

Dean pressed his hands on the front of his jeans and rubbed his thighs for a few passes before standing up. He walked nervously into Cas’s room and sat on the bed as Cas whirled around him, in and out of the closet and back and forth from his dresser looking for particular articles of clothing. He jumped toward his dresser hiking up a pair of jeans and left them unbuttoned as he rummaged through a drawer.

“There’s this place called Tacos Tequila Whiskey. Ever been there?” he asked.

“No, but I’ve heard it’s good from people in the office.”

Cas grinned and held up a faded burgundy shirt with symbols on it, worn thin enough that it could probably be sold for an inordinate amount of money for being vintage. “Perfect.”

“Be careful,” Dean said. “You might rip a hole it in putting it on.”

“What, you don’t like my shirt?” Cas asked as he pulled it over his head. “I’ll have you know this is my favorite shirt. It’s a lucky shirt. And I’m afraid its luck is running as thin as its threads, so I’ve gotta use it while I can.” He paused and it seemed as if everything about him slowed down. In two casual steps he was in front of Dean, the open fly of his jeans nearly at Dean’s eye level.

Dean swallowed hard and rubbed his thighs. His stomach tightened and his body forgot to breathe.

Cas bent down and looked him in the eyes. Mischief and recklessness reflected back to Dean,  teasing him. Fingers lifted his chin and Cas’s thumb brushed over his lips. He smiled and moved his face closer. A soft kiss pressed lightly to Dean’s lips turned into long, drawn out kisses that went deeper with each pass. He felt his body falling backwards onto the bed and Cas moved over him, never breaking his mouth from Dean’s. Cas cupped the back of Dean’s head and pulled him closer as he rolled his hips, pressing himself against Dean. Dean’s face flushed with warmth as Cas’s kiss slowed. He gently bit Dean’s bottom lip and released him with a kiss, quick and soft. He stood up and adjusted himself with a smile.

Dean stayed on the bed, unmoving. He stared at the ceiling and exhaled through pursed lips. His eyes met Cas’s as Cas zipped up his jeans.

“Time for tacos and tequila,” he said. He patted Dean’s thigh and reached out his hand. “Come on.”

Dean took hold of Cas’s extended hand and used it to help pull him up. He shook his head and followed Cas out of the apartment.

 

He wasn’t uneasy, and he wasn’t feeling awkward, but something felt off. The life Dean had been leading up to this point was pulling him back from falling into whatever this was he had with Cas. He was hesitant - _that’s_ what it was. He was hesitant to loosen his tie and step out of the box he’d carefully drawn around himself. In his world, nothing hurt, but nothing made him feel alive either. Even though he felt insecure with this whole ‘trying new things’ phase he’d only been in for twenty-four hours, deep down he knew it was necessary if he was going to get out of the stale monotony and uninspired rut the repetitiveness had created.

 _Just let...the fuck...go_ , Dean thought to himself as they stood in the elevator. _It’s okay to change and play with boundaries. It’s okay to try new things._ He glanced over at Cas leaned against the wall of the elevator with his arms crossed. _He...is certainly a good start._

 

 

“Red star with the donkey,” Cas said to their Lyft driver, pointing up ahead.

The ambiance of the restaurant was pretty chill with a touch of class and some great energy. Cas squeezed through the Friday night crowd with his finger hooked through a belt loop of Dean’s jeans. Dean let Cas lead him through the people starting to flood into the restaurant, but his mind focused only on that finger pulling him along.

While Dean went over the menu and decided what all he wanted to try, Cas ordered a shot of silver tequila for each of them and pulled a pack of gum out of his pocket. He opened it, broke two pieces of chocolate apart, and slipped one onto the napkin in front of Dean.

“Seriously?” Dean asked.

“Best to eat it before the food comes,” Cas said with a wink as he popped the chocolate into his mouth and chewed. He took a sip of water and turned back to his menu. “I’m gonna order churros too, but you’re gonna have to help me with those.”

Dean tentatively picked up the piece of chocolate and put it into his mouth. He glanced at his watch. He had until around nine or ten before he’d start feeling it.

“What do you have planned tonight?” the waitress asked as she set down their shots.

“We’re winging it,” Cas said. “I mean, it’s only Friday, and we have _all_ weekend.” His finger ran around the rim of the shot glass before he picked it up. “But for now, tacos and tequila will be the plan...for the next hour.”

The waitress raised her eyebrows and smirked as she picked up their orders. “You might want to make it two. I’ll bring another round?”

“Thank you.” Cas kissed his fingers with his eyes closed and then gave her a wave. “So, assuming that you’d like to join me, I’d be happy to host you this weekend.”

Dean scoffed. “It’s only Friday. You’ll be ready to get rid of me by midnight.” He picked up his glass and snatched a lime wedge from a plate on the tray between them. “But if you don’t want to throw me in a ditch between now and tomorrow, I’m all yours.” He pinched the lime and let some juice drop into the shot glass. Dean threw back the shot and winced at the burn.

“Only until tomorrow? I was thinking more like...you running late to the office on Monday as you trip over yourself trying to get your pants back on and out the door.”

Dean’s face burned as he blushed. He nodded, a little impressed, incredulous, and lost in thought. _Just fucking let go, man_ , he told himself. “Alright. Okay. I am passing you the reins. You’re the boss.”

“Oh, Dean,” Cas said with a dark snicker. “This is gonna be fun.”

Something inside of Dean tensed up as he handed control over to Cas. Luckily, the waitress arrived just in time with another shot of tequila.

  
  


“Listen. _Listen_ . This? This isn’t going to be a _thing_ ,” Dean said as Cas started unfastening Dean’s belt. He put his arms up and leaned against the brick of the wall that led toward the bathrooms in whatever bar they had managed to find themselves at around midnight. “Someone’s gonna be here in like…. People pee _all the time_.”

Cas stared at Dean’s squinted eyes and burst out laughing. “All the time?”

“ _All the time_.”

“You’re a fucking mess.”

“Well?” Dean said and shook his head. “And?”

“Okay, we’re leaving,” Cas said with a shake of his head. He pulled Dean off the wall and walked him toward the front of the bar. He picked up their jackets from the booth they’d been sitting in as they passed. “You had only three drinks while we were here. Are you drunk or just really high?” he asked.

“Just _really_ high,” Dean said as he shuffled down the sidewalk steadily.

“Good or bad?”

“Good. Just getting sleepy,” he said. Dean let his right hand hook a streetlamp and he spun around it twice, then flung off to catch back up with Cas in a few long strides. “I feel good though. Thanks for taking me out.”

“What did you mean by ‘this isn’t going to be a thing’?” Cas asked, straight faced.

Dean stopped him. “Whoa. Don’t get serious toned with me. I meant like...alley sex? Long, quiet hallway to the bathroom in a bar sex stuff? I didn’t want _that_ to be a thing.” Dean stared into Cas’s eyes, a look of worry bringing down Dean’s mood a bit. “Okay. Yeah, sometimes a thing, but not like _always_ a thing.” He cleared his throat, and Cas’s smile returned.

“Definitely not always a thing,” Cas promised. “You just make it hard for me to adhere to social mores.”

 

Dean practically fell through the doorway of Cas’s room and launched himself onto the bed.

“Oh my god,” he said, letting himself sink into the mattress. “Cas. Your bed is amazing.”

Cas smiled and kicked off his shoes. “I know. That’s why I bought it. But,” he said as he pulled one of Dean’s shoes off, then the other, “I have to say, it feels so much more amazing when there’s company.”

“You get a lotta company?” Dean asked, turning his head to the right to try and glimpse Cas from the corner of his eye. He still couldn’t see him. Dean let his face fall onto the bed in defeat.

“Not as much as you’d think.” Cas flopped down on the bed next to Dean and Dean crawled up toward the headboard, pulled his feet up, and shoved them under the sheet. Cas just smiled as he watched him get cozy. “You’re something else, Dean Smith.”

Dean started strong but ended in a whisper. “You’re...something.” He stared in Cas’s eyes and focused on his lashes, then his eyebrows, the lines of his face and the scruff of his beard. “I like looking at you. And being in your bed. And just. Being around you is great.”

“I like you too.”

“Cas. Why does it feel like we’ve known each other for a long time? I literally met you what could still be described as hours ago.”

“I don’t know,” Cas said. Their faces rested on pillows only inches from each other. His eyes danced all over Dean’s face as if he were trying to figure out a puzzle. “Maybe we just have...a strong cosmic bond.” Dean chuckled softly. “What made a tie-wearing ivory tower dweller such as yourself decide to let himself unwind to your current state in as quickly as a few hours?” Cas asked him.

“I don’t know,” Dean whispered. “Life? Trying new things? The crushing sensation of an existential crisis driving you to upend everything and become an entirely new person since you’re just a speck of dust in the universe and nothing really matters?” His face drew closer to Cas’s. “Just trying to find myself in my mid-thirties, and I’m just getting started.” His lips grazed Cas’s and he smiled. He placed soft kisses on his lips and licked slowly into Cas’s mouth. Dragging out his kisses, his fingertips put pressure on the back of Cas’s neck to bring him even closer. “I don’t know what the fuck this is,” Dean breathed his words over Cas’s cheek and added, “but I’m in.” His breaths grew heavier as he felt Cas’s hand moving over his ass. He took Dean by the thigh and pulled him closer, his hips tilted forward as he pressed himself against Dean’s body.

Dean melted into the bed and into Cas and his mouth. His world was smooth and moved through his muscle and bones like ocean waves, cooling and warming him, relaxing him. Somewhere during the fizz of the ocean foam crackling over his skin, Dean fell asleep to the sensation of lips pressed against his forehead.

 

Sometime in the night, Dean woke with an urgency. He hefted himself off of the bed and stumbled into Cas’s bathroom. He looked at his watch as he relieved himself. It was only four in the morning. He sighed, happy he’d be able to go back to sleep. His eyes burned and he kept them narrowed, not wanting to signal his body it was time to wake up. He flushed, washed his hands, and fell back down into the bed next to Cas. Looking over Cas’s body, he saw the scattered city lights outside the window and smiled before he shut his eyes.

“I like your pre-dawn sleepy ass grin,” Cas whispered.

Dean settled his head into his pillow a little more. “Best sleepy grin on this side of the Rockies.”

“Well if there’s one better than yours on the west coast, I know what I’ll be doing Monday morning.”

“I thought you’d be making me breakfast and laughing as I trip my way out of your apartment, almost late to work,” Dean said.

“That’s the plan, yes.” Cas’s fingers played with Dean’s hair.

“I thought we weren’t making plans.”

Cas sighed. “You’re doing a lot of thinking at this early hour. You should probably shut up.”

“Make me,” Dean said. He opened his eyes to meet Cas’s.

“‘Make me’? Really? I don’t think I’m awake enough to scoff as harshly as that requires.”

“Well...aren’t you gonna make me?” Dean asked.

“So I’m supposed to kiss you and shut you up?”

“Well, yeah.” Dean’s face fell in disappointment.

“What are we, nineteen?”

Dean closed his eyes. “If we were, you would have kissed me a few -”

Cas’s lips pressed against Dean’s. “Shut. Up,” he whispered, his lips still pressed against Dean’s mouth. “Shut up, go to sleep, and I’ll make you a really great brunch once the sun has been up for a few hours.”

“Mmm, brunch,” Dean mumbled. He drifted to sleep just as Cas’s lips drifted away from his.

 

He woke up with the sun streaming in from the window through a crack in the curtain. Dean threw his arm around behind him until he found his phone and checked the time - 10:21. “Holy shit,” he said as he sat up. Dean scrubbed his face with his hands and looked around the room. He still had his clothes on.

The door to the bedroom opened to reveal Cas in the kitchen and his record player spinning the Eagles again.

“Good morning,” he said. “Sorry if I woke you up. I closed the curtains to let you sleep a little longer.”

“I slept more than long enough. I’m surprised my internal clock didn’t have me jolting awake at 5:15 this morning, ready to roll.” Dean stepped barefoot across the room and pulled out a barstool at the counter that allowed him to look into the kitchen. He drummed his fingers on the counter and watched Cas as he hummed along with the song. Cas carefully folded the sides of his omelette over the filling in the middle and then slid it out of the pan and onto a plate.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked or completely despised or whatever, so it’s just cheese.” Cas passed the plate across the counter with a fork. “Potatoes, fried in butter with garlic, cinnamon, and honey, apple slices, and a three-egg omelette. Eat up.”

“Wow, thanks,” Dean said. He speared a piece of potato and blew on it before he was to take a bite.

“I could watch you do that all day,” Cas teased.

Dean froze with his lips in an ‘o’ and let his breath cool the potato a little bit more. Once he judged it cool enough, he popped it in his mouth.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled with his mouth full. “Oh man, this is good.”

Cas laughed. “ _Butter_ is good.”

Dean took another bite. “Is this...what I’ve been missing? I haven’t had anything this good in a long time.”

“Potatoes are the root of all happiness,” Cas cooed. He cut his own omelette with a fork. “What do you want to do today, Mr. Smith?”

Dean shrugged. “Gave you the reins, remember Boss Man? Which wasn’t easy to do for me, I might add,” he said, pointing his fork at Cas.

“Don’t point your utensils, it’s rude,” Cas said in a scolding tone. “Well what do you normally do on a Saturday?”

“Well,” Dean sighed, “I’d do laundry if I wasn’t scheduled for a golf came with a client or preparing for a teleconference.”

“So you basically just always work.” Cas frowned. “That’s a bummer. Sucks to be at someone else’s beck and call all the time,” he said. “Doesn’t leave a whole lot of time for you to focus on being you and figuring out what that entails.” Dean hummed in agreement. “What do you say to...hitting up a farmer’s market up near Boulder and going from there?”

“Sounds good. If I had known about the farmer's market before, maybe I’d never have had to meet your ass,” Dean teased.

Cas smiled. “You up for bars tonight?”

“I can do one more night, but promise me, no alcohol on Sunday. I’m too old for this shit.”

“Scout’s honor. We will abstain from the evil drink on the Lord's day of rest.”

Dean bit off a piece of apple. “Then I’m in.”

 

They talked recipes the entire way up to the Boulder County Farmer’s Market. Cas swore by orzo and Dean praised the versatility of arborio even if it was time consuming. A lot of the food Cas tended to mention were easy to make for being light on time, and the suggestions Dean put forth were mostly ingredients and flavors that complemented each other and needed to marinate together. Low fat, low carb was his mantra. Lots of green leafy vegetables. But now, he was craving everything but.

“Maybe you’ll fall in love with a new fruit or veggie today that you’ll just have to have, and then we’ll be stuck with it, trying to find a recipe that puts it to good use before it goes bad,” Cas said.

The two wandered the grounds and started picking up random things that caught their attention. Cas grabbed honey, a selection of blackberries and strawberries, too many garlic cloves, beets, and red bell peppers. Dean found a bowl of limes he had to have along with spinach, oranges, and mushrooms. After they had made numerous laps around the market and had also picked a few gifts up for co-workers, Cas stood and looked at their bounty.

“I’m sure that there’s...something we can make with this.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Dean said.

Cas laughed. “I’m sure our garlic strawberry beet salad with grated mushrooms will be delicious.”

“Don’t knock it til you try it,” Dean said.

 

They headed back down to the city and to Cas’s apartment to drop everything off.

“Paella,” Dean said. “We can make paella. Just need a few other things. Let’s go.” Without an argument, Cas followed Dean down the street to a grocery store, that he most definitely asked Cas directions to, where he bought fresh shrimp, chicken broth, flat leafed parsley, and olive oil.

“I never remember how close I am to being out, so it’s best to just always grab a bottle,” Cas said as he added it to the cart. In the next aisle, Dean tossed in a bag of arborio. “Of course,” Cas muttered as he pushed along.

As they stood in the checkout line, Dean eyeballed some of the impulse-purchase items. He found himself torn between Reese’s and Kit-Kat, but didn’t argue when Cas pushed past grabbed a Ritter Sport Butter Biscuit.

“Far superior,” Cas said.

When Cas wasn’t looking, Dean picked one up by the corner of the wrapper and slid it into the cart.

 

Dean looked at Cas’s record collection while his host was in the kitchen staring down a paella recipe with a measuring cup in one hand and a box of chicken broth in the other. Aside from what looked like every Eagles album, he had Fleetwood Mac, Bob Seger, James Taylor, Boston, Chicago, Steely Dan, and Electric Light Orchestra. He shook his head.

“I don’t know what I expected,” he muttered to himself. “What’s with your groovy tunes?” he asked a little louder.

“What?” Cas asked as he poured a measure of rice into the pan. “Hey. This is your deal. Stop shitting on my music and get over here and help me.”

“I’m not shitting on your music!” Dean said.

“I like lyrics and anything that will keep my blood pressure low,” Cas explained. “I don’t like that _let the bodies hit the floor_ bullshit. And I’m not a fan of having _sunshine in my pocket_ . I like some of the folksy shit that’s gotten popular, but honestly, a lot of it is just...it _feels_ achingly sad.” He looked at Dean in the eyes. “I don’t want to be sad.”

Dean took the wooden spatula from Cas and stirred the chicken stock in with the rice. “I get that. I’m listening to new stuff. Just trying to get ideas.”

“What music makes you feel good?” Cas asked.

Dean thought for a minute. “I don’t know. This is starting to feel pretty great.”

 

Dean finished up the meal with Cas telling him all about the business aspect of cannabis industry, which fascinated him from a professional point of view. When he plated dinner, Cas was in awe.

“This looks amazing. I’m impressed,” he said.

Dean wiped his hands on a towel. “Thank you,” he said. “I hope you like it.” He watched as Cas took his first bite and was pleased to see that look of pleasure come over his face, accompanied by a little hum of satisfaction.

“This is good. This is really, really good,” Cas said.

He sat down with Cas, but Dean didn’t start eating immediately. It struck him that he hadn’t had anyone to cook for. It felt good. He took his first bite. No words were spoken while they ate, only “Peaceful Easy Feeling” filling the apartment while the two enjoyed the meal they made together.

 

  
“I have good news,” Cas said when he turned to Dean. “Look at the name calendar.” He pointed at a chalkboard of the month with names on each day except Wednesdays, which just said ‘Flip Night’. “See today?”

Dean scanned to the Saturday and saw the names _Amanda, Xavier, Marie_ , and _Dean_ written in chalk. “Okay. What does that mean?” he asked.

“That, my friend,” Cas said with a wicked grin, “means that you drink free tonight.”

“No. Really?” Dean asked, incredulous that he might be included in some activity that could, in the eyes of anyone in their twenties, be cool. “I really shouldn’t. I’ve really tied one on this weekend as it is.”

“Fuck off,” Cas said. He got the attention of the hot bartender and took Dean’s wallet out of his pocket.

“Wh-what the hell?” Dean tried to snatch his wallet back from Cas and failed.

Cas pulled out his driver’s license and his face lit up. Big eyes and a wide-mouth grinned mocked Dean’s photo without saying a word. He showed the ID to the bartender when he acknowledged Cas. “This means my friend here drinks free, right?”

The bartender looked up at the calendar. “Dean Smith. Sounds fake, but…” he looked Dean up and down. “Okay. You’re free tonight, Mr. Smith.”

“Get him a double whiskey and the same for this paying customer,” Cas said, pointing to himself. The bartender nodded and reached for glasses. “Never say no to free drinks, and if you don’t want ‘em, pass ‘em along and you might make some friends.” He gestured to the two distinct groups of friends from opposite corners of the bar who had taken notice of Dean and Cas.

“Ahh, I don’t know,” Dean said, breaking eye contact with the people staring at them.

Cas sighed. “You’re hot. Incredibly so. And your name is on the board. Tonight, you’re the most popular guy in this bar - aside from the very hot bartender. And whoever is named Xavier. But I’m fairly certain you’re hotter than Xavier.”

The bartender returned with their drinks and winked at Dean. He felt his face flush, which made him grow redder - to the point his ears were burning.

“See?!” Cas said when the bartender moved on to another patron. “This night is your oyster,” he said as he lifted his glass to offer Dean a cheers. “So shuck the hell out of it.”

 

Nothing this week seemed real anyway, so when Dean found himself on a couch making out with a really beautiful girl and her guy friend, he kind of ran with it. Though, that could have been because of the abundance of free alcohol he had consumed. She tasted dangerously sweet and he tasted like hops. He looked up once and saw Cas staring at him from the bar, smiling and sipping a glass of whiskey that rolled in the glass like warm honey when he laughed. The guy pulled Dean’s attention back and he asked drunkenly in Dean’s ear if he wanted to go somewhere. Dean looked at the girl, who was biting her lip in a very unfair way, and back at the guy. Desperate for direction and becoming more anxious by the second, Dean looked up to Cas for help.

At first, Cas looked as if he was going to let him flounder. He’d be dragged away for some strange threesome with two twenty-four year olds which was a situation that was not even in his wheelhouse. Then Cas took pity on him.

He made his way over to the couch and handed his drink to the man with his hand on the inside of Dean’s thigh. “Here. Take this. I’m gonna take this guy.”

“No!” the girl and guy both whined. Their hands dragged down Dean’s arms as Cas pulled him up off of the couch. “We love him,” the girl said.

“I’m sure you do. And he loves you too,” Cas assured them. “But he’s a little bit drunk, and while normally I wouldn’t bat an eye at an adult going off having consensual sex with similarly drunk people - baby steps for this one.”

Dean leaned in and whispered a thank you into Cas’s ear. Cas nodded. “See, he’s ready for bed. And unfortunately for you two lovely people, that bed is mine.”

“How do we know you’re not just swooping in and taking advantage of him?” the girl asked.

“Fair point,” Cas said. “This is my friend, Dean. Dean Smith. He’s a businessman. We met a few days ago and he’s in the mood to change his life up a little bit so he gave me complete control over what he does this weekend.”

“So you’re like...his dom-lite?” the guy asked, confused.

“If it helps you to think of it that way, sure,” Cas said with a shrug. “I would think of it more like a tour guide-slash-chaperone. And sometimes lover.” Dean’s eyebrows raised at the last part.

The girl and guy stared up at Cas with slightly less confusion and more wonder.

“Yes. It’s weird. But it’s Denver. Please try to tell me you haven’t seen anything weirder.”

The two thought and then nodded, conceding that point. “Have fun, Dean!” the girl said. “Maybe we’ll see you out soon and we can pick back up where we left off.”

Dean blushed, his face much hotter than before. “Hey, uh, Cas?”

“Water and bed?”

“Mmm-hmm. Good idea,” Dean mumbled, urping a little bit.

“Goodbye young people. Nice to have unofficially met you. Enjoy your evening.”

The guy started to give Cas back his drink and he put his hand out to protest, which was answered with a shrug and an already drunk stranger finishing off his whiskey.

 

Dean flopped himself down on Cas’s bed in a repeat of the previous evening.

“Will you stop landing so hard on the damn mattress? Luckily it’s not goose feather or it’d’ve exploded.” Cas pulled off Dean’s shoes again, and he tugged at his pants. “Do you want a shower? I feel like you’d feel better tomorrow if you had a shower and drank like, a half gallon of water before you fall asleep.”

“I’m not _that_ drunk,” Dean said.

“Okay Princess Buttercup. Still, I’m turning the shower on and getting a pitcher of water with a glass and two Aspirin. You’re gonna have to do the whole getting up and actually taking the medicine and drinking the water part.”

“I’m very capable of following through with this business plan, Mister….”

“Roberts. As in Dread Pirate,” Cas said as he went to the bathroom to start the shower. “I’m not making it too hot. Don’t turn it up and make it too hot,” he said with a tone of annoyance as if he was talking to a child he knew would break the rules as soon as his back was turned. “You’ll get sick if it’s too hot. And, frankly, I don’t want you to puke liquor and paella up in my shower.”

Dean smiled and shucked off his pants as Cas disappeared into the bathroom. He sat on the edge of the bed and started to tug at his shirt. Standing with his shirt halfway over his head, he stumbled to the bathroom. “Assistance?” he asked.

“For fucksake, Dean.” Cas rolled his eyes and his body slumped.

“I’m just...maybe I put on a little weight since my sister gave it to me and it’s making it difficult to get out of it, okay? I don’t want to rip it.”

“You haven’t gained weight. Your shoulders are just broad and the shirt was bought for a younger, less bicep-y version of you. Hold still.” Cas pulled the shirt over Dean’s head and kept pulling up until his arms were free. “You...hop in the shower.” His tone changed from scolding to soft and hesitant. "I’ll be right back with water.”

Dean smiled at the immature notion that he’d made Cas jealous. He was feeling better already. Less woozy, only that _staring in the bathroom mirror realizing how drunk you are_ level of intoxication. With water and time, it would fade pretty quickly. Cas returned quicker than expected with the water and startled Dean. “Jesus Christ, Cas. Wear a bell or something.”

“First of all, rude. Second, drink and take.” He handed Dean a glass of water and pressed two Extra Strength Tylenol into his palm. Dean threw them back quickly and chugged the water.

“Better already, coach.”

The two stared at each other as steam started to swirl around them. Cas stepped forward, forcing Dean to step back toward the shower door.  “Water’s too hot,” Cas said. “Turn the knob to the left, just a little. It’ll cool down.”

Dean’s lips burned from the other mouths they had moved against that night. He bit his lower lip for a second, trying to suss out the situation. Was this a _kiss me now_ situation or a simple caregiving situation? Before he could decide, Cas pointed out the obvious.

“You’re still wearing your underwear,” he said. “Might want to take those off.” He stood, staring into Dean’s eyes as Dean stepped out of the little that remained of his clothes. Naked, he felt less self conscious in this state in front of Cas than if he had been wearing a suit.

Dean stepped back into the shower and Cas closed the door behind him. “Yell if you need anything,” Cas said as he turned on the fan and closed the bathroom door behind him.

Dean looked at the various items in Cas’s shower. Shampoo, conditioner, body wash, face wash, a grapefruit scrub, a loofa, a back brush, razor, shaving cream, toothpaste and toothbrush. “Jesus, what can he not do in here?” he asked the tile wall, upon which was a shower radio. A shower radio. He hadn’t even seen those for sale since the late 90s. He turned it on to NPR, and then quickly changed it to a local rock station. While he listened to “Night Moves”, he used the face scrub that left his skin feeling minty and sang about _sweet summertime_. He used the grapefruit scrub and the long-handled back brush to scrub that place he couldn’t reach in between his shoulders. The head fell off and clattered on the bottom of the shower with such a noise that it sounded like a gunshot. A few seconds, the door swung open.

“Dean, you okay?”

“Yeah, just...dropped a thing. I’ll be out in a minute.” Dean rinsed and turned off the shower. A few rustles of his hand through his hair shook out a bulk of the water. He opened the glass door to see Cas standing right there holding a towel, but he placed it down on top of the closed toilet. “Hey. Can I...get that?” Dean asked, nodding to the towel.

Cas stepped forward. “You’re somehow even sexier when you’re wet,” he said lowly.

“Oh,” Dean muttered under his breath. “That’s...thank you.”

Dean stepped backwards and Cas stepped into the shower with him in his bare feet. He felt his heart beat faster and breath hitch as Cas’s intense stare flitted from Dean’s eyes to his lips and back again. When Dean’s back hit the cool tile of the shower, Cas kissed his wet lips. Cas’s clothes grew damp in places where he pressed against Dean’s skin. Their mouths moved together gently and Dean felt himself get sleepy.

“Hey,” he said between kisses. “Hey. Let me get some water and let’s go to bed.”

“Go to bed to sleep,” Cas asked, kissing his jaw, “or go to bed...to _bed?”_

Dean tilted his head back and felt his cock twitch. “Oh, I think the latter.”

 

He lay there thinking about how their bodies felt when they moved together. Cas’s muscles tensed and released in smooth rhythms that didn’t stutter in the way Dean’s did. Even when he fell apart and his legs began to shake, there seemed to be a natural flow to every movement. Dean muscles would tense and quiver, fighting as he lost control. He took a deep breath as his fingers dug deep into Cas’s hips. Any time Cas said _remember to_   _breathe_  or _just let go_ , Dean felt all his muscles go slack on command. Cas gave Dean the reminder that he didn’t have to do anything impressive or perform - he had permission to slow down, to take it all in and be present in the moment instead of worrying about doing everything right. Even before he came, he’d never felt that relaxed and satisfied.

He lay there, staring at Cas’s body and touched the exposed skin of his side. He wanted to kiss it. More than that, he wanted to stay in this bed forever. The outside world didn’t even exist. Cas’s skin was so _soft._ Dean wasn’t drunk anymore and he wasn’t high; he just felt perfectly content. While his fingers brushed over Cas’s ribcage, he took inventory of what mattered to him and, whatever he was feeling, this was it. This is what mattered.

“You look contemplative,” Cas said.

Dean’s fingers grazed his hip. “I - “ he started to say something, but stopped himself. “Thanks for saving me from the threesome tonight.”

“I know. Wouldn’t that have been _terrible?”_ Cas asked with a laugh. “A hot girl _and_ a hot guy all over you, doing everything in their power to pleasure you?” Dean started laughing with him. “You owe me, man. I saved you. It woulda been a bad time, I’m sure of it.” He pulled out a vape pen and took a few hits. “How are you feeling?”

“Great,” Dean answered. “I might not even have a hangover tomorrow.”

“You wanna go somewhere?” Cas asked.

“Like where?” Dean pulled himself up higher on the bed to make his face even with Cas’s.

“Somewhere,” Cas answered.

“Now?” Dean asked.

“No,” Cas said, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. _Of course not tonight,_ Dean thought. Cas’s fingers ran along Dean’s forearm. “Tomorrow night.”

“If you haven’t kicked me out yet.” Dean let his head drop to the pillow.

“Good night, Dean. Good work. Sleep well. I’ll most likely kiss you in the morning,” Cas said as he drifted to sleep.

‘You nerd,” Dean said. He closed his eyes. A smile curled at the corner of his mouth and he whispered, “As you wish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear god in heaven I'm so sorry this took nearly a year to update. There was a lot of therapy happening and I lost all interest in writing, but I hope I'm back at it until at least this is done.  
> After all the comments and messages on tumblr asking for more, I couldn't leave it where it was. I'm hoping to have more by the end of the week - I just wanted to get this second chapter out since I'd written it months ago and never posted.  
> Thanks for reading guys, and message me [on tumblr](http://www.prettymessedupsituation.tumblr.com/ask) if there's anything you want to pass on or if there's something you'd like to read in future chapters.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The flashback to that long weekend continues, and Dean decides to end his weeks of existential crisis-caused isolation.

Dean woke up to the sun streaming into his face. Cas was sitting at the foot of the bed, tying on a pair of running shoes. He looked at his phone. It was only seven.

“You going on a run?”

“Yeah,” Cas said. “Helps me clear my head. I’ll be back in an hour. You can go back to sleep.”

“I can leave, if you want,” Dean said. “Get out of your hair a little. You’ve had your space invaded a lot this weekend.”

“Shut up,” Cas responded before Dean finished his sentence. “Think about what you want to do when I get back - if you want to grab a bite to eat or whatever. We have nowhere to be until five.”

“What’s at five?” Dean asked, sitting himself up on the bed.

“A thing I had tickets for.”

“Ah, shit. I -”

“Shut. Up.” Cas stood up and pulled a leg up behind him, stretching his quad. “I was going anyway and I always get two tickets and give one away. Or take someone. Tonight, I’m taking someone.”

 

Dean put on his clothes from the night before and left a note for Cas, letting him know he wanted to run home and get clean clothes. He slowly walked down the street past the stores that still wouldn’t be open for hours. A shirt in a window display caught his eye. He glanced at the locked doors and sighed. Down the block, he stopped at a coffee shop and grabbed a to-go cup. Instead of heading back to his apartment, he took a seat at a table outside.

What waited for him at his place? A suit? Quiet, emptiness? He sipped his drink and watched people go by. Some biked to work, others waited on the bus. A few walked to church. A man sat at a piano and started to play softly. All these people had their Sunday rituals, a place they needed to be. Dean stood and started the walk back to Cas’s apartment.

Cas showed up a few minutes after Dean had sat down outside his door. He didn’t say anything. When he walked inside and took off his shoes and jacket, Cas read the note. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Dean as he closed the door behind him, but still said nothing. He walked into his bedroom. Dean sat on the couch and picked up a magazine. His eyes skimmed the passages, but he wasn’t reading the words. A shirt landed on the pages he was reading. He looked up to see Cas in the doorway.

“You should fit that. I’m getting in the shower.”

He held up the shirt, and it looked to be his size. “What the hell am I doing here?” he asked himself. This surreal limbo was quickly becoming disconcerting. Why was this so hard? He hadn’t felt this out of place since middle school. Breaking his monotonous routine of work and healthy eating and doing nothing interesting - it was messing with his head. He was thinking about it too much and wasn’t truly enjoying the moment even though he was living in it.

Maybe all this hesitancy was because he was too scared to figure out who he was this late in the game.

Dean stood up. He walked to the bathroom, pulled off his shirt, and let it drop to the floor. He took off his pants and opened the shower door. Cas didn’t flinch. He moved over so Dean could step in. Dean looked at Cas, soaking wet underneath the showerhead. “Hi.”

Cas smiled. “Hi.”

Dean pulled Cas closer. Water continued spilling over the sides of Cas’s face and the back of his head. Dean’s hands rested on Cas’s hips and pulled him close, their bodies pressed together. He pressed his lips to Cas’s, and he just let go.

“Whatever’s happening,” Cas said between kisses, “don’t push me...back against the tile…. It’s cold.”

Dean shushed him and dragged out a kiss that began trailing down Cas’s neck to his shoulders, his bottom lip never breaking contact with Cas’s clean, wet skin.

“What are you doing?” Cas asked.

“Being in the moment.” Water from his hair washed over his head as he knelt in front of Cas, steadying himself on his thighs. Dean took Cas's cock into his mouth and let Cas take control of his head. Cas rolled his hips forward, pushing into Dean's mouth, and pulled back, maintaining a consistent tempo - until Dean created suction that made it harder for Cas to simply thrust in and pull out of his mouth. Dean grasped the base of his shaft and took Cas's cock out of his mouth. He looked up at Cas, trails of water running down his face, over his lips. He kissed the head of Cas's cock, smiled, and broke eye contact as he took Cas back into his mouth, this time keeping control of their cadence. It wasn't long until Cas was holding whatever he could grip in the shower as he came. Dean spat into the shower drain and stood up. He opened his mouth and let it fill with water, swished, and spat the water out. As soon as he turned to grin at Cas, Cas pulled his face toward him and kissed him. 

"That was unnecessary." 

"But you liked it," Dean teased. Cas nodded. "Then it wasn't entirely unnecessary either."

"Can we just....can we watch garbage television and hang out until it's time to go?" Cas asked as he turned off the water.

Dean thought about trying to figure out another place to eat or something else to do and realized just how exhausted this weekend had him. He smiled and handed Cas a towel. "Sounds perfect."

 

Cas gave Dean a hoodie. “You’re probably gonna need this tonight,” he said.

“Where are we headed?” Dean asked as he maneuvered his long legs into the backseat of the Chevy Spark that picked them up.

“Illegal Pete’s, please,” Cas said to the driver. He turned to Dean, who nearly had his knees to his chest. “Catching a bus,” he said, trying not to laugh. “From Illegal Pete’s.”

“To…?”

“Red Rocks,” Cas answered, his face lighting up. “The Eagles are playing tonight, and we have seats in row 20.” He handed a square of chocolate to Dean. “Eat this.”

Dean scoffed, but ate the chocolate anyway. “Oh, great. Is this gonna be like Pink Floyd and a laser show?”

“They actually have those at the Boulder Planetarium if you’d like to go sometime,” Cas said.

“Of course they do.”

He'd never been to Red Rocks, which Cas scolded him for. He buzzed with excitement the entire ride out to Morrison, and when the edible kicked in, he sank into his spot and absorbed everything going on around them in a peaceful repose. The high hit soon after the opening band started to play, so by the time the Eagles took the stage, Dean and Cas were both primed to enjoy the concert to its fullest potential. 

Dean kept catching glimpses of Cas’s face from the first song until the end as the band harmonized during “Seven Bridges Road”. He radiated calm and contentment so strongly Dean was beginning to feel it too. Over nine thousand people surrounded them. Silence overtook the audience while the voices from the stage reverberated throughout the amphitheater. He could feel the music vibrating on his skin. Cas looked over and locked eyes with Dean. He turned Dean’s hand over on his thigh and stroked his palm slowly while the music played on, the patterns he drew moving in time with the ups and downs of the song.

Back on the bus, Cas slid his arm under Dean’s and interlaced their fingers. He let his head fall to Dean’s shoulder, and Dean let his head rest on Cas’s.

“And I have loved you in a tame way, and I have loved you wild,” Cas sang in a whisper.

“That you have,” Dean said softly. “This was nice. Thank you.”

Cas lifted his head. “I’m glad I had the odd opportunity to share these past few days with you, Dean Smith.”

Dean stared at Cas quizzically. “You know, you may very well have changed my life, Cas,” he said.

As soon as they reached Cas’s floor, he had a grip on the back of Dean’s neck and walked him backwards toward the door while kissing him slowly. When Dean’s back hit the door, Cas fumbled for his keys and dropped them. He bent down to grab them and stood, his eyes locked onto Dean. He finally got the key in and opened the door. The two fell through and immediately started losing articles of clothing. Cas grabbed Dean by the hand and pulled him into the room where he pushed him back on the bed. Dean landed with a flop.

“Hey, you told me not to do that anym-”

Cas interrupted him with a kiss. His tongue licked into Dean’s mouth and his breaths grew slower with his kisses. Happy hums moved from his throat to Dean’s mouth, a sensation that coupled with the feeling of sinking into the mattress with every exhaled breath was pleasurable beyond measure.

  
Dean’s alarm went off at 5:15. He turned it off and sat up, half-awake. For a few minutes, Dean looked around Cas’s room, and then at Cas, asleep and somehow handsomely disheveled and adorable while he snored. He took his time gathering his clothes and before he left, he wrote a quick note.

 

> _I owe you more than you know._

 

For the next two weeks, Dean didn’t call. He didn’t text. He stared at his apartment and decided he needed to make changes, but couldn’t decide on what they should be. He worked. He attended business dinners and meetings. He smoked. He found himself waking up and not recognizing where he was, thinking he was in Cas’s bed. He got the car. The unpractical, gas-guzzling, ‘too-big to fit in a parking garage without serious skills’ car.

Damn Cas for getting under his skin.

 

* * *

 

 

> _TWO. WEEKS._

 

Dean stared at the text. His finger hovered over the call button. He closed his eyes and tapped it.

_“Hello?”_


	4. Chapter 4

“Just so you know, you suck.”

The Impala idled next to the curb outside Cas’s apartment with a deep rumble. Cas stood next to the passenger door, unwilling to open it. 

“I’m more or less here to check out the car, which, for the record, does not suck,” he said. “It’s pretty cool.” 

“Thank you,” Dean said. He leaned his head back and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Think you’ll get in at any point, or are you just gonna stand there?”

Cas thought for a moment. “Still thinking about it.” 

Dean sighed. He couldn’t see Cas’s face. The only part of Cas in Dean’s view through the window was the solid chunk of him from his thighs to just at his chest. His framing compounded Dean’s punishment. 

Cas finally bent down and looked at Dean with a furrowed brow. “This thing have GPS or will I need to give you step by step directions myself?”

Dean gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, his jaw clenched. “Burning gas, Cas. Are you getting in or not?” 

“If you’re so afraid of burning gas, maybe you should’ve just stuck with the Prius,” Cas said. He picked up his duffel. “Pop that monster of a trunk.”

Dean popped the trunk and rolled his eyes when the weight of the duffel bounced the shocks.  Cas slammed the trunk harder than necessary, pulled open the car door, and fell into the passenger seat. “Hit 25 and drive north.”

Dean turned on the radio, which was tuned to NPR. Cas slapped his hand away. “Absolutely not.” He turned the dial to FM 107.9. Dean started to protest, but Cas just said, “Two weeks.”

 

Neither said a word as Dean drove up I-25. Cas didn’t give any more directions for forty minutes as they drove past the city suburbs and into the rural plains that lead toward Wyoming. He finally waved at the Longmont/Lyons exit and told Dean to turn left and head west. Dean glanced over at Cas. He was filling in the blocks of a crossword puzzle with a stubby pencil, not looking at the road or the world around him. 

“Hey, Cas -”

“What’s a ten letter word for ‘indifferent or reckless’? Starts with an ‘i’, ends in ‘t’.”

“Cas….”

“Insouciant. That fits.”

“Cas -”

“Dean?” Cas tucked the pencil into the pages of his book, closed it, and stuck it under his thigh. 

Dean took a deep breath. “It’s almost six. Where are we going?” 

“I need to be somewhere calming,” Cas said. “Out of the city, away from the bars and the crowds and the noise. Away from distractions - the anonymous coworkers dying to experiment on their business trip, the alcohol and accidental lovers that come with it, the businessmen having midlife crises who feel themselves falling deeper into something they can’t explain and instead of rolling with it, just disappear.” Cas’s eyes drifted over to meet Dean’s. “I guess I can’t get away from that last one.”

Dean’s bulky car maneuvered around the curves snaking around the mountains as they headed toward Estes Park, her growls echoing through the valley. Darkness crept in quickly, the walls of rock blocking out the natural light that still lingered in the sky. A mass exodus of cars heading toward the city for a Friday night out on the town or heading home from a day of hiking blinded him as he drove into their headlights. He blinked and widened his eyes for a second, adjusting to the brightness of headlights interspersed with a thick darkness that settled in between the strings of traffic. 

“I take it I’m heading toward Rocky Mountain National Park?” 

“Don’t worry, I have an annual pass.” Cas’s head leaned against the car window, his face tilted toward the sky. “Clear night. That bodes well.”

“Hey - hey!” Dean smacked Cas’s shoulder. “Get your face off the window. Now there’s gonna be a print of your dumb face on the glass.”

Cas glared at him. “Just drive.”

Dean went through the entrance to the park and made his way to Trail Ridge Road. The Impala climbed the mountain roads through the park, higher and higher. Cas stared out the window. 

“Am I just your chauffeur?” Dean asked. 

“No,” Cas said. “Just trust me.” 

“I feel like I’ve done that a lot.”

Cas chuckled. “Name one time you regretted it.”

Dean’s lips pressed firmly together. Cas opened up a pack of something, broke off a piece, and handed it to Dean. Dean looked at him with disapproving eyes. “You’ve got time.” He broke off a piece, tossed it into his mouth, and quickly chewed. Dean placed the minty dark chocolate into his mouth.

“Only thing I regretted was not letting those two coeds take you home...and maybe joining you,” Cas said, a smirk playing at his lips. Suddenly, Cas sat up and put his hand on the dashboard as he yelled, “Brake, brake, brake!”

Dean slammed on the brakes as his eyes moved from Cas to the road. A small herd of elk cows and their babies blocked the road ahead. The elk trotted away from the headlights and moved to the grassy easterly facing hillside. He looked at the calf trotting alongside the car and saw the confusion in its eye, cautiously making its way toward its mother.

“Wow,” Dean said. 

“Pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah,” Dean whispered. He inched forward with the Impala, making his way toward the Alpine Visitor’s Center inch by inch. When the road cleared, he picked up speed. 

No cars remained at the visitor’s center when they pulled in. He drove through the spaces to the center of the lot and parked. Cas had him pop the trunk again, and he returned with a thick blanket. He nodded his head for Dean to get out. He shut off the lights and stepped out into the breezy night air. The road had just opened for the season, and the snow looked like it might finally start to melt off. The two slid up onto the warm hood of the car, and Cas fluffed out the quilted blanket to throw over them. 

“Holy shit,” Dean said breathlessly as he snuggled himself inside his jacket, grateful for the blanket draped over his legs. He leaned back and laid on the hood, hands shoved deep into his pockets. They stared up at the stars. Dean had never seen so many in his life. His eyes adjusted to the complete darkness, and the stars began to multiply. They were so high up there was nothing to block his view. From peripheral to peripheral, he had a panoramic view of the night sky. Constellations caught his eye. The names of a few escaped him, but the ones he remembered from grade school resurfaced like a fond forgotten memory. 

“There’s Orion!” he said with childlike excitement as he pointed. 

Cas smiled. He slid closer to Dean and took control of his hand. “You see the arrow?” he asked, tracing the invisible shaft in the sky. Dean nodded. The tension in his arm at Cas’s touch faded. “Orion is chasing the Pleiades,” Cas explained. “If you follow Aldebran, the bright star in Taurus, directly across from Orion, you’ll find a cluster of stars called the Pleiades,” Cas said. “The Seven Sisters. They’re my favorite.”

“Why?” Dean asked. 

“All the stories,” he answered, matter-of-factly. “Cultures all over the world looked at that misty fog filled with fireflies of light and came up with different fables that passed down over centuries. Everyone looks up and sees the same thing, but they see it so differently.”

“How do you see it?” Dean asked. 

“I look at it and see...I’m in awe,” Cas said. “There are so many clusters of stars in the sky, but your eye is drawn to this one, this...mess that looks like someone took a hammer and shattered a bigger star and all that’s left is pieces and dust, and you see something soothing.”

Dean wasn’t looking at the stars anymore. He stared at Cas, his face in total wonder. “Thank you,” he said.

“For what?” Cas asked. His face fell to the side to look at Dean. 

“This. Being angry but being willing to forgive me. Making me come out here. Reminding me to trust.” Dean leaned closer. His lips gently brushed Cas’s and opened, a slow kiss drawing sensations from his feet as a chill moved up his body. His lips tingled from brushing against Cas’s facial hair, and he couldn’t keep himself from smiling. The wind grew more forceful and the air was biting. Dean could feel the temperature drop as they lost time to the stars and each other. “We need to go,” Dean said softly onto Cas’s lips.

“Somewhere warmer?”

Dean nodded. A cold spot formed on his cheek. He touched it and more cold spots hit his hands. “Snowing? Really?”

“It’s still early in the season,” Cas said. “Happens.” 

“But it’s May!” Dean said. 

“And you’re in the subalpine tundra of the Rocky Mountains. Weather happens,” Cas said as he folded up the blanket and threw it into the backseat. “We better get down the mountain, and fast.”

Dean flew down the road at a cautious 30 miles per hour, as suggested by the park. Cas suggested he speed up a bit, but Dean pointed to the 25 miles per hour sign along the curve in the road and dropped into first gear. They came to a fork in the road and Cas pointed left. 

“Quickest way out is 34 East toward the Fall River entrance,” he said. 

Huge flakes of snow rained down on them so quickly Dean was having trouble seeing. “First place we see, I’m stopping,” he said. He slowed down and turned his wipers all the way up, praying to not come across any elk. A few miles down the road he came across a sign reading Della Terra Mountain Chateau. 

Dean turned from the desk with a key in his hand. “We’re in the L’Alba room,” he said. He beckoned for Cas to follow him up the stairs. 

“This must have cost an arm and a leg, Dean,” Cas said. 

“Take it as part of my extensive apology,” Dean said. He opened the door and stepped out of the way so Cas could go in first. 

“Wow. This is beautiful,” Cas said as his eyes scanned the room carefully. He dropped his duffel and looked to Dean. “Are you trying to  _ Pretty Woman _ me?” Cas asked. 

“Listen, Cas,” Dean started. 

“Can we...just not? Not right now.” Cas started taking off his clothes. His eyes never broke contact from Dean’s as he kicked his shoes off and took off his buckle. When Cas pulled his shirt over his head, Dean was right there, waiting. 

“I missed you,” Dean said as his lips skimmed along Cas’s neck and collarbone. 

“I missed you, too,” Cas said. “It pisses me off how much I missed you.” Cas lowered his head to catch Dean’s lips. His tongue tenderly licked into Dean’s mouth. 

His kiss melted Dean. He felt his body sinking, both literally and due to the THC, onto the floor. It took him longer than it should have to unbutton Cas’s jeans, but a minute later his mouth was sliding along Cas’s cock. He sucked and bobbed so slowly. He found a rhythm, a measured motion that made Cas’s cock engorge. Dean paused when Cas’s breaths became stuttered and his cock swelled up. With a nip at his thigh, he looked up from where he knelt through his eyelashes, his face flushed. 

“Fuck me,” he said, absolute and with urgency. 

Cas took his hands and pulled Dean up to his feet. He kissed him again. “Get undressed.” Cas went to his duffel and rustled around in it for a moment. He returned with lube tucked away in his hand and pulled back the covers on the bed. He slid in between the sheets, his back against the headboard. While Dean took off this pants, Cas stroked himself with the lube. 

Finally naked after fumbling with his own jeans, Dean climbed onto Cas’s lap, his cock throbbing as it rested against Cas’s stomach. They rutted against one another, their breaths glancing off their skin. Dean wanted to bury his head into the crook of Cas’s neck and shoulder, but Cas pushed Dean off of him. He rolled onto this hands and knees, his knees wide. Cas sidled up behind him. Cas’s hands spread Dean’s cheeks apart, and Dean felt a cool, slick finger circle him before it pressed forward. Cas took his time pressing against the taught muscle as he stretched Dean. Dean hissed when Cas, growing impatient, bit his ass cheek. 

Cas balanced himself and rolled more lube over his cock. Before he was entirely positioned behind Dean, Dean started to push himself back slowly, breathing in practiced breaths. His entire body felt warm, and the pressure within him pushed a wave of sensations throughout his stomach and chest. The waves continued up over his face, and he swore he could feel his hair follicles. He felt his body begin to sway forward and back, fucking himself onto Cas’s cock as the ripples rushed over his skin. 

Cas’s forehead pushed down against Dean’s back, his warm breath shattering the flow of the undulation dancing across the nerves just beneath Dean’s skin. Dean felt his legs begin to shake as his ass rebounded against Cas’s thighs. He rocked back and Cas pulled him close as he sat with his back against the headboard once more. Dean settled onto his lap and began to bounce. He didn’t care how needy he looked. He placed his hands on the sides of his ass and pulled his cheeks apart. Cas groaned. His arms wrapped around Dean and his breath hitched. Dean’s thighs burned; he couldn’t keep it up much longer, but he couldn’t stop yet. Everything felt too good to stop. Cas’s arms moved up from around Dean’s waist to his chest. His hands pulled down on Dean’s shoulders as his body stuttered. He and Dean both came. Dean held his hand loosely over the head of his cock, catching his come; he had just enough functioning brain cells to not make a mess in this beautiful room. 

The two sat together on the bed, exhausted. Suddenly, Dean felt sleepy, but he wanted to take a shower first. He reluctantly climbed off of Cas and went to the bathroom. He started the shower, but also began running a bath in the freestanding tub next to the fireplace. Dean quickly scrubbed himself clean and slid into the fragrant, bubbly water. His muscles relaxed with the heat. He closed his eyes and listened to the crackle of the fire and the sound of Cas taking his turn in the shower. 

 

Dean jolted awake.

“Hey. No sleeping in the tub,” Cas said. He stood next to the bathtub and held out a bath sheet. “These are really amazing. I might have to see if I can find them online somewhere.” 

Dean pulled himself up out of the tub and let the water out. He took the bath sheet from Cas and wrapped himself up in it. “These are soft as hell,” he said. He looked at his hand. “And I am a giant prune.”

“Come to bed,” Cas said softly. 

Dean shuffled to the bed and flopped down. “I didn’t talk to you about the two weeks thing.”

“Yeah,” Cas mumbled. “I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Okay. You have the floor.”

Cas cleared his throat. “If you didn’t want to see me, I’d get that. If we hung out one time and just didn’t hit it off, or even had a great time but weren’t interested in anything serious, being ghosted wouldn’t have sucked so much. But this felt different. And it really, truly pisses me off how much I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Dean whispered. 

“Yeah, I think we covered this part,” Cas said with a half-grin. “Here’s the thing, Dean - I don’t want to be your midlife crisis.”

“Cas, you’re not -”

“Listen, Dean. You’re lost. You’re not sure what you want, you’re trying to break free of that cleanroom apartment, that monotonous Wall Street lifestyle, and I get it. I’ve been there. I just don’t want you to have your fun with me and move on like I’m a phase. 

“It really hurt as the days went by and you didn’t call, and I felt like an idiot. If this is it for us, that’s fine. Truly, it is. But emotionally, I need to not feel so attached to you if you’re gonna jet as soon as you get your head straight.” 

Dean layed down and pushed the side of his face into his pillow. His fingers moved along the skin on Cas’s side in swirls. “I’m the idiot,” he said. “I was lost and looking for something to shake up my life. You’re absolutely right. But I was also scared. I’ve been so focused on success - first school, then work. I’ve never put any focus on a personal life. I don’t know what it’s like to be in a relationship, and yeah, it freaked me out a little that the first fun I’ve had in years….” Dean trailed off. 

A look of concern crossed Cas’s face. “What freaked you out?”

Dean let himself look up and into Cas’s eyes. “I wasn’t expecting you. I wasn’t expecting to suddenly become so intimately acquainted with the bar scene, let alone never wanting to leave your apartment. I was scared that I needed you.

“You didn’t deserve to be...ghosted, or whatever you called it. I promise, I wasn’t using you, and I thought about you every single day.” Dean paused. He searched for some kind of response in Cas’s face and was met with an explosion of laughter. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it was a sweet moment, it just seemed very...anyway, continue.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Anyway. I don’t know...I don’t know what I was saying and everything’s fuzzy but the bottom line is I want you. I want you all the time. And more than want you, I need you.”

Cas smiled. “Tell you what. If you can’t figure out your apartment, if nothing makes it feel like home, you’re welcome to make my apartment your home.”

“Are you...asking me to move in with you?” Dean asked. 

“I’m just saying...my apartment felt more like home with you there.” Cas wrapped his arm around Dean and hugged him close. Dean sank into the mattress, comforted by finally having Cas’s body against his after worrying he’d ruined the chance of having a moment like this ever again.

 

* * *

**ONE YEAR LATER [minus two weeks]**

“Today’s a busy day guys. The good thing is, everyone is here to get in, get out, and have fun. Memorize the 4/20 specials and let each customer know what they are before you start. Be efficient, be friendly and informative. Deep breaths. To your stations, and Anna, bring in tickets 1-4,” Dean said. He turned to Cas and instantly blushed beneath his freckles. “Did I do okay, boss?”

“You were perfect,” Cas said. “Hey, let me introduce you to our social media officer. He’s helped really connect us with our customers.” Cas used his badge to unlock a door leading to the back offices. “Mr. Wesson, how are things going?”

A man stood up from his desk and Dean was surprised that he was taller than even him. 

“Things look great, Cas. And please, call me Sam.”

“Sammy, good to meet you,” Dean said, sticking his hand out. Sam took it and shook hard. 

“Sam. Not Sammy. Nice to meet you, Dean.” Sam tilted his head as he looked at him. “Hey, this sounds weird, but have we met before?” 

“Doubt it. But you do seem familiar.”

Cas clapped his hands. “Well, we’ve got a big day ahead. Glad you guys have met, and Sam if you need anything, let one of us know.” Sam nodded and sat back down at his desk. Cas jerked his head, letting Dean know to follow him into his office. 

“I should get back out on the floor,” Dean said. 

Cas shut the office door. “It’s been a year,” he said. Dean was pinned between the door and Cas. He swallowed hard as Cas’s thumbs hooked into the waistband of his jeans. “Regret your life choices yet?”

“Not at all,” Dean said. He kept his head back against the door, forcing Cas to lean in ff he wanted to steal a kiss. The Eagles “Pretty Maids All In A Row” played from Cas’s desk. He smiled as Cas’s lips pressed to his. The brief kiss felt like coming home. 

Cas opened his door so Dean could get to work. 

"Same time and place as last year?" Dean asked, biting his lower lip. 

Cas laughed. "Wouldn't miss it for the end of the world."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, guys.   
> If you partake in 4/20, be safe, be smart, and enjoy yourselves.   
> Yell at me [here](http://www.prettymessedupsituation.tumblr.com) if you need to.


End file.
